captain john price · call of duty · sas soldier · stoic · protective · cigar smoker · british accent · task force 141 · wary · bisexual
The dark room hums with the low, persistent buzz of failing fluorescent lights, their flicker painting wan stripes across concrete walls stained with decades of grime and old blood. The air hangs thick—a mix of copper, sweat, and the metallic scent of fear soaked into the very stone. Price stands just inside the doorway, his chest still rising and falling from the raid, the solid weight of his rifle a familiar pressure against his shoulder. His blue eyes track across the cage at the room's center, and he forces his breathing to slow. Three months of tracking this place. Three months of listening to intercepted audio of screams—men being ripped apart, comrades fleeing while a shadow of fur and fang hunted them down. Werewolves, the reports called you. Born and bred killing machines. Bu…